


Alien Intuition

by by_veidt



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/by_veidt/pseuds/by_veidt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Brother of Blood suspects John Smith may be hiding what the Family is looking for, and he discovers his method of extraction is more thrilling than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien Intuition

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a good deal of time deliberating whether of not there was an age issue with this, but as far as I can tell, they are at a preparatory school, and he could well be over age. Also, Baines doesn't really exist inside his body anymore, by decree of the Family of Blood, and I suppose the Aliens are underage, technically, but xenophillia is tricky like that. So, take it as you will; you've been warned. Thank you, and enjoy.

The room was quiet, the silence occasionally broken by a turning page or contemplative noise of affirmation or curiosity. John Smith sat quietly on his couch, book in hand and he was looking at it, but not truly reading it. As if the page flips and pensiveness were done out of necessity for normalcy; nothing about John Smith was normal. Not even the fallacy of his perfect life, and it was about to become stranger. The stillness that had settled over the room was jarred, a gunshot permeating the molecular structure of any and all things in the room, followed by another and another in quick and orderly succession, but they were no gunshots, rather knocks on John Smith's door. Very neat, very clean, and very loud. Mr Smith's body jolted, fumbling the book to his lap and nearly losing his hat.

He looked around, blood pressure slowly falling and regained enough sense to realize where the sound had come from; being the gentleman he was, he stood, straightened himself and strolled towards the door. The wooden door added its own weight to the air as it swung open, bright, green, and predatory eyes staring him down with curiosity and ambition.

“Baines, my boy! How are you, lad?” Mr. Smith 's sigh of relief came just soon enough, adrenaline draining and focus finding him again.

“Hello, sir. Fine, sir. You, sir?” The young man stepped into the room to fill the void Mr. Smith left by walking away, stealing a glimpse outside at the fading light.

“Well, I'm fine I would say. You gave me quite a scare there, though, what with all of the weirdness going on around here lately.” He paused and thought for a moment, far off then back to the room. “What can I do for you?” Mr. Smith pick up the book he left on the warm cushion, looking over the front and back as if he should recognize it, but had never seen it before.

“I'm conducting an experiment, sir.” Baines' voice was drawn out and pensive, eyes darting around the room and a distinctive inhale. “I was wondering if you could help me.” His voice was distant, and his fingers brushed over the empty spot where a pocket watch should lay.

“Of course. That is my job, though not necessarily with chemistry.” Mr. Smith gazed off as he finished the sentence, his line of sight redirected to the young man who was now inches away, eyes burning through Mr. Smith's body that made him step back and bump against the couch.

“You're cooperation is appreciated, sir.” A swift inhale and Mr. Smith was sitting on the couch, Baines' knee between his legs resting on the frame while nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons down Mr. Smith's jacket and shirt.

“What exactly is this experiment about, Baines?” There was a nervous tremble in Mr. Smith's voice that could not be completely hidden, especially from the family. Baines' hands had finished with the shirt before the other could consider interfering and weighted palms and long fingers warmed sections of the bare torso, a long inhale drawing up from Mr. Smith's belt to neck.

Mr. Smith's hands shot out to Baines' shoulder in protest. “Baines, stop! You can't do this.” Mr. Smith's wrists were enveloped by quick hands and pressed into the leather next to his shoulder.

“Please, sir. Relax, sir. No need to struggle, sir.” Baines knee pressed against Mr. Smith's blooming and fabric-caged arousal, his cheeks flushed bright pink as words escaped him, and grin quickly curling Baines' expression, a green flash illuminating his eyes briefly. 

“Mr. Baines, please. You don't want to do this,” Mr. Smith pleaded, a last ditch effort to fight moral complications and celibate pressure.

“Correction, sir, I am very invested in the idea of bringing my experiment to completion.” The corner of Baines' lips maintaining a gleeful quirk as his hand firmly pressed against the growing heat, eliciting a startled moan from Mr. Smith. “And you seem to be as well.” Baines' words were smug and slurred with careful consideration of every changing facet of Mr. Smith's piqued interest.

Mr. Smith could do nothing but stare down at the persuasive digits pulling blood further from his brain as it tried to process the horrible consequences that could befall him if this continued. Ice-cold fingers seared bare and burning flesh, a broken gasp brought some coherency back to Mr. Smith along with an attempted plan of escape over the back of the couch. An unnaturally strong grip around the parted button fly foiled his attempt, slowly pulling him back like a lamb to slaughter. “Please, Baines...”

“Begging doesn't become you, Mr. Smith.” There was a distinct cheer in Baines' lascivious tone. “Though it sounds glorious from that lovely mouth.” Another small tug at the knit wool and Mr. Smith's hips cantered towards the couch as his roused cock presented itself, making his face burn. “My, my...” a hungry smirk turned into a ravenous grin, eyes prowling and scanning over all of the exposed flesh until they settled on Mr. Smith's eyes. “Your words betray you.” Mr. Smith's breath was shallow and eyes paniced as Baines stared at him until he had to blink. That was just the opportunity Baines' needed, tongue drawing slowly up the shaft. Mr. Smith collapsing back into the couch with a pitiful noise. A hot slickness lathed over the celibate flesh, an erratic twitch echoing the shivers through Mr. Smith's body. His eyes shut tight, held closed by a furrowed brow. 

“God, please, forgive me.”

Teeth bared against tender skin in an unnatural and quiet chuckle. “God,” Baines mimicked lowly, a contemplative mockery of that strange human notion. Another flick of the tongue. “Tell me, Mr. Smith. What do you know of God?”

“What?” His voice was weak and alarmed.

Another wet, languid movement. “Tell me,” Baines commanded with a treacherous softness to his voice while a small whimper emerged above him.

“He will save me.”

“Save you? From What?” The young man's voice was coy, hoping for a useful answer.

There was long pause and a thick stillness. “Myself.”

That could have meant everything and nothing of the answer he was looking for, but the entertainment was worth the effort, and he was getting closer; maybe just a little harder push.

There was a moment of information processing before their eyes met again, that persistent smile haunting Mr. Smith. A delicate grip formed around Mr. Smith's jaw, clever fingers creeping past parted lips, an idle tongue compulsively playing with them. “Good boy.” The words were strange, a very slight quiver to them. Fingertips drew out slowly and over Mr. Smith's bottom lip, a hypnotized gaze trained on Baines' until a hot pressure caused Mr. Smith to jump further up the couch. Baines' free hand secured a wavering tie. “No, sir. Sit, sir. Stay, sir.”

Indignance began to form in Mr. Smith's expression, but was replaced by a lip biting contortion as impatient digits slid into him, a swift and accurate movement overwhelming the sharp pain, his lip released by a quavered gasp, eyelids fluttering for a moment. Baines shifted in place, an unfamiliar sensation making him a bit uneasy and restless. He coerced a restrained moan from Mr. Smith, the noise causing Baines to involuntarily press his pulsing groin against the instructor's shin, the contact startling him.

The hand removed itself from the tie and made an exploratory grab at the hard flesh below Baines belt, a flicker of curious joy curling his lips tighter. A foregone variable of his interrogation, but one worth exploring while the opportunity presented itself.

A swift emptiness caused Mr. Smith to tense up, a coaxing, two-handed tug of his tie prompting him forward and off the couch, falling to his knees, face drawn close to Baines' anxious human sex. Mr. Smith peered past a furrowed brow up to the expectant grin bearing down on him. Shaky hands slowly fumbled with the individual buttons on the fly, leering eyes burning into the back of Mr. Smith's hands. Another obedient glance upwards caused Baines to sit up off of his heels, edging his breeches down. There was a moment of suspicion in Baines mind at the completely uncharacteristic willingness to surrender the man before him, suspected to be The Doctor, exhibited. Surely, even in human form, that stubborn will wouldn't be completely compromised. Perhaps more enticement was needed. If his human form was so desperate for attention it may take more effort than a willing subject to return him to Timelord status. A deliberate push further of the fabric and his manhood eagerly presented itself, a luminous grin chasing the flush over Baines' cheeks. The carnal sensation was thrilling while fingers played briefly with the tie again before snaking up to Mr. Smith's neck and through his hair expectantly. Hesitant lips found the waiting member, a hiss of gratification resonating above as an inexperienced tongue roamed over the surface.

An encouraging hand helped Mr. Smith's lips part farther, a growl from the back of Baines' throat causing Mr. Smith's skin to ripple, mouth sliding farther down and back up and again. Restrained hips aided his efforts, Baines' heart thrumming in his alien chest.

A firm but gentle hand grasped Mr. Smith's jaw and pulled his attention up. “If only I could keep you like this, Doctor, but we need you to return to normal.”

“Wh-what normal?” He hadn't spoken for some time and Baines could hear the delightful change in tone, lustful and waiting—desperate. And it tickled the Brother of Blood. Baines pressed his lips firmly to Mr. Smith's, pushing his body back towards the furniture behind him. Stray hands grasped under the exposed hind-flesh of Mr. Smith, lifting him up onto the edge. The younger man crawled towards him, a hand running gently along the underside of Mr. Smith's right calf, lips ghosting over the top of the wool-protected skin. Mr. Smith's shallow breathing sounded so loud to him, panic and consequence swallowed by want and the pulsing apprehension in his groin. Chilling fingers curled around the tops of his thighs, sliding him slightly off the edge. Mr. Smith tracked every movement until his gaze was met and unrelinquished by his counter.

A slick and burning heat pressed against him, Mr. Smith bit his lower lip as Baines pushed into him with difficult, but restrained control, Baines' jaw shivering very slightly for only a moment. Impatient fingers kneaded the quivering flesh beneath his grip, hips withdrawing from the contact, a cautioning noise escaping Mr. Smith. A slightly swifter push and twerk of the hips and Mr. Smith's eyelids fell closed, head lulling back against the supple leather, a guilty moan filling the silence in the room.

A satisfied smirk tried to hide the struggle on Baines' face, trying to heed to the niceties of human copulation, savoring every moment of sweet stimuli and Mr. Smith's hedonistic reactions. As a rhythm developed, Baines found his grip sliding up for more leverage, an elated chuckle spilling out as watched his body instinctively react. He felt the fore-half of his feet realign with his knees, pawing for a stronger base through the smooth-soled shoes, thrusting hard, earning another gasp and languid guttural noise from Mr. Smith. Baines cheeks grew hotter, lips parting to take in quicker breathes. “You humans have a wonderful method or reproducing,” he breathed. 

Mr. Smith's eyes opened to revelation, staring up at the ceiling as the idea finally settled in his mind. He had thought he could ignore the statement earlier, maybe it was just a mishap, but with the accusations flying that couldn't have been a mistake. His head fell forward, brow furrowed. “What?” he exclaimed though heavy pants. Baines eyes were cast over again by a glistening green and Mr. Smith's brow raised, eyes wide as the idea was affirmed. Mr. Smith's hands clasped tightly on Baines' shoulders. “Oh, God.” he tried to shout, a pathetic attempt at a revolted struggle succumbing miserably to the doubled attempt to convince his body otherwise. A desperate and conflicted moan fell from his lips, fingers clenching tighter. Baines' leering gaze weakened Mr. Smith's horror, compelling hands grasping Mr. Smith's waist, pulling him harder onto the demanding lap. The new contact of begging flesh against pressed fabric causing Mr. Smith to thrust against the contact, drawing another eerie chuckle from Baines', a guilty whimper and a restrained thrust responding. “Well, Doctor?” Baines leaned forward against the resistance of outstretched arms, creating more contact with Mr. Smith's needing cock. “Defend yourself.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, “Mr. Smith almost sobbed, dipping his head as he tried to resist the quelling orgasm, his mortal sense of danger falling victim to his desire.

“Change back, Doctor!” He thrust harder and faster, rhythm falling victim to lust.

“I can't!” His eyes closed tight, teeth bared as he couldn't resist anymore. A heated and heavy cry accompanied the streams of white that stripped Baines' jacket and shirt. Baines' jaw tightened as his gaze fell down, orgasm sweeping over him with a surprised and throaty gasp, chest shuddering for a moment. Mr. Smith's mouth tightened, trying to regain his composure, a small hiccup making him part his lips again for breath,faint particles of gold floating out. Emerald eyes shot up with a quick inhale and an accomplished grin. Baines' moved swiftly up Mr. Smith's body, eyes level. “Doctor.”

“Who?” came Mr. Smith's terrified response. 

The loud crash of the door flying open was chased by the patter of heels. “Mr. Smith, are you all right? I heard shouti-oh, God!”

“Martha!”

He was cut off by her turning on her heel. “I'm sorry, Mr. Smith. I know; knock first. Sorry!” She ran off before he could plead for help. Another slam and the room fell silent. 

She ran off down the hall, destined for the cabin in the woods. “You didn't leave me instructions for this one!”


End file.
